Leah Fygetakis
Still navigating through uncharted waters in radio silence:
Is anyone there?

In today’s modern world, some of us still cast about the waters with nothing but the moon, the stars, and our internal compass. We journey in solitude and radio silence. Passing another vessel is extremely rare, and if it happens, we wonder, are they friend or foe? Do I show myself or pray to remain unseen?

In 2026, I will turn 70. My parents are deceased, and I have partially retired. I don’t have to worry about bringing ντροπή to the family or tarnishing my father’s φιλότιμο. Nor do I have to worry that the opinions I express here, might in some way compromise my professional opportunities and success. What is it that could cause such consequences? It is being a Greek American lesbian. While some things have improved, including the ability of Greek same-sex couples to marry, back here in the States, being a Greek American lesbian still feels as if I am the never-to-be-seen unicorn. How many Greek American lesbians do you personally know? How many of them are “out?” How many of them are out to other Greeks?

If your answer is none, one, or very few, you would be in the majority. I myself, have been in a perpetual search to find them. Why is this? The reason is that our lives and our stories are near non-existent in any of our Greek American institutions, organizations, the media, literature, and other cultural/community spaces. The funny thing is, there are indeed others and over the years, as they have stumbled over something that I published many years ago, they have managed to find me. They have ranged in ages, many in their 20s and up to 66.

Here are how these interactions go: They look to me and confess their anguish. Sometimes, they are struggling with being Greek Orthodox and whether there is a way to reconcile that with being a lesbian. They confess their fears over how their parents may react. They ask does it ever get better? Can you tell me how you navigated these waters? Do you know of any other Greek lesbians who might live in my area of the country? Do you have anything else that I can read that speaks to our lives in a positive way? I silently muse… I feel as if they may have mistaken me as the Sacred Oracle of Delphi to which they have come to Pythia, the high priestess, for wise advice. I do my best to offer solace, friendship and hope. You have now met me, I say. I tell them that there are others who have sought me out as well. We do exist even though we see very little of us in literature, film, within our churches or Greek communities.

If I were to accentuate one over-riding message it would be that it is not only a shame for us (Greek American lesbians) to be deprived of the joys that come from being able to identify each other and form small circles of good friendships as we Greeks often like to do with each other, but the larger Greek community is deprived from knowing us, too. We are among you. Using myself as an example: I baptized our children—our priest documented both of us as mothers on the baptismal certificate. I dragged them to “Greek School” as so many parents do. I took charge and provided the best good care I could muster for my ill and elderly parents. I have pilgrimed to different areas of Greece many times to spend time with my relatives and to experience the sense of home I feel in my bones while I am there.

In doing these things, I have had some hurtful and unwelcoming experiences because of my sexual orientation, but I have also had some good experiences where I was able to be myself. Unfortunately, the negative ones are more numerous than the good ones. At least, I have tried.

Most of the other Greek lesbians I’ve spoken with have said that they avoid trying to participate in their local Greek American communities because they fear only hurt will come of it. Or, when they try to engage, they do so with some vigilance around keeping their sexual orientation hidden. These latter lesbians have been fully aware of the emotional cost they pay by being inauthentic to themselves each time they self-censor any reference to their lives that might reveal to others that they are not heterosexual. There are so many ways that these omissions occur in everyday conversations. “What did you do this weekend,” gets answered with “nothing” rather than to say “I went to Gay Pride, and it was so much fun. Come with me next year!” Or, “are you dating anyone” is answered with “no” even though, indeed, one has been dating another woman in a wonderful relationship. This is sometimes followed with persistence, “Well, why not? You are such a lovely girl. Any man would be lucky to have you!” Allowing silence to serve as the response is far more typical than saying, “I met this incredibly creative, caring woman who seems to adore me, and I feel the same way about her. I’d love for you to meet her. Let’s make that happen!”

These self-censoring, inauthentic interactions are painful. They nibble on the soul, a little piece at a time. After a period of time, those who have taken this self-censoring path have accumulated so many layers of such experiences that they come to recognize it as psychologically unhealthy for them. As a result, they lessen or completely discontinue their interactions with other Greek people. Most of them describe being out with at least a few non-Greek people; others with the majority of non-Greek people. Thus they know how nice it is when one feels welcomed and feels belonging among others of a group. Why go to places where one might feel unwelcomed? Even so, regardless of their avoiding other Greek people out of fear, or removing themselves after accumulated pain, all expressed their desire to be a part of a Greek community if only their sexual orientation would not be an issue.

So far, I have focused on describing what some Greek lesbians do when presented with choices to negate or disclose their sexual orientation in interactions with other Greeks. But what of the instances where one is simply living her life and along the way, other Greek people recognize that she is a lesbian. No questions asked, no statements made, just going along in the moments that make up one’s day.

To understand how these hurts occur, this time, I will illustrate from personal experience. When I have had negative experiences occur, the reactions have never been hostile; rather, it’s been more like being whispered about and feeling like people are keeping somewhat of a wide berth between me and themselves. When I traveled to Symi, the birthplace of my father, total strangers knew of him and the Fygetakis family. In the course of casual conversations that either I or others struck up, as soon as they knew who I was, I was treated with great warmth, joy, stories and welcoming. The next time I went to Symi, 14 years later, with a partner and two children in tow, it was a very different experience. It was clear to everyone around us at the outdoor restaurants and the small shops that we must be lesbians as our young children were demanding the attention of both “mama” and “mommy.” While I did try to engage in some conversation with others around my history with the island, how it had changed since my last visit, etc., I experienced more of a distanced politeness. In fact, after a couple of days, as we were crossing the street from one of the outdoor cafés, I took note that some of the people there seemed to be exchanging glances with each other, gazing in our direction, and that their voices had lowered in volume. I was glad that my sons were too young to pick up on this experience of being “othered.” This same distanced politeness occurred here in Boston, as I and other mothers would gather to wait for the end of Greek School to take our children home. Again, the other mothers all quickly learned that my children had two mothers as they innocently would make reference to their family, draw their pictures, etc. Politeness is merely tolerance. It is not welcoming. I return to my original point—Greek American lesbians wish to be included and to feel that we belong just as much as anyone else, and our Greek American communities are losing out from the love and vibrancy we can add if they would only welcome us in.

Finally, in my process of writing this essay, I wondered if there might be anything new to read or know about since I last looked on the internet, so, on December 13, 2025, I did a google search using the key words, “Greek-American Lesbians.” To my surprise, Gemini AI’s at-the-top summary begins with:

AI Overview

Greek-American lesbians navigate unique cultural challenges, balancing Hellenic traditions of honor, family, and church with their identities, often experiencing invisibility or conflict, as detailed in works like Leah Fygetakis's “Greek American Lesbians: Identity Odysseys,” exploring difficult coming-out processes and integrating cultural expectations with same-sex attraction, facing alienation within Greek communities despite broader LGBTQ+ visibility growth. Key themes involve reconciling deeply ingrained gender roles, overcoming internalized homophobia, and finding positive identity formation within an often-conservative cultural context… In essence, Greek-American lesbians often embark on challenging “identity odysseys,” striving to forge positive identities that honor both their Hellenic roots and their sexual orientation, a journey marked by cultural tension but also resilience.

It is both humbling and rewarding to see this AI summary appear at the top of the search. Humbling because in my soul, I still feel the modesty with which I was raised as a little Greek American girl; be proud but be modest. I still tend to shy away from any limelight. Of course, it is rewarding to see that of all the internet content that AI might have scraped together, and of all the summaries that it might have developed for those three key words, it is a summary of my work that appears. But I am also saddened and longing to see an AI summary of something other than a highlight of my publication, that in 2027, will be 30 years old. Where is the AI summary that reads:

There is a lot of information available on Greek-American lesbians. I can go deeper. Would you like me to focus on ancient or contemporary Greek-American lesbians? in literature or film? In politics and celebrities or something else?

In the meantime, AI is still evolving and error-prone. In that same summary it describes Olympia Dukakis as being a well-known, Greek American lesbian who had served as a positive role model for us. While I would love to claim her, it isn’t so. AI likely picked up on the fact that she happened to play a lesbian character in one of her films. Regardless, I took a couple screenshots of the google page to keep so I can remind myself that perhaps, I actually did do something of some small significance for my people, the Greek communities I have loved with all my heart, and at the same time, remind myself to laugh.

December 30, 2025

Leah Fygetakis is a psychologist-educator. She has been a recipient of an award for Distinguished Contributions in Education and Training by Division 44 of the American Psychological Association, and a past recipient of Harvard Medical School Dean’s Innovation Award for Diversity and Inclusion.